Julian was pretty damn sure that no one, not even his boss, wanted him to do his worst. His hands were pretty capable of healing and harming. Not that he wanted to think about that. Or how many fights he'd gotten into during high school before he'd been sent off to military school.
He takes out one of the swabs and pours a little antiseptic on it before moving over, looking towards Daryl. "This might sting a little," he tells him before starting to clean around the wound, along with making sure that the stitches were in tact. "By next week, depending on whether you keep them intact or not, I should be able to remove them."